I’ve always wondered if Christmas was as important a religious celebration in earlier times as it is nowadays.

In an entry from the 1835 diary of Deacon Elihu Woodworth, for example, we find no mention of Christmas whatsoever. Woodworth’s diary for 1835-1836, a publication of the Wolfville Historical Society, contains an appendix mentioning Elihu had a close association with the Presbyterian-Covenanter Church and was its chief administrative officer.

In other words, while Woodworth was obviously was a man of deep religious convictions, we find in his diary for December 25, 1835, that he spent the day butchering a cow. “Dec. 25. Soft weather. Cut up 510 lbs. beef,” the diary entry reads. No mention is made of Christmas in the December 24 or December 26 entries either.

In the diary of Adolphus Gaetz, 1855-1873, (a Public Archives of Nova Scotia publication) we also find Christmas being totally ignored. However, the Woodworth and Gaetz diaries are not typical records of Christmas celebrations. Glimpses of Christmas in earlier days can be found in two works by Wolfville historian, James Doyle Davison. From Davison’s work on Handley Chipman, for example, we find the following:

“… towards the end of the 18th century, the proprietor of the household that included several servants would recognize the occasion (Christmas) in a special way,” Davison wrote of British customs. Of our Planters, however, Davison notes that while they paid little attention to Christmas, it was customary to celebrate it at home “with an extra helping at dinner.”

Davison gives us another view of Christmas in his book on Eliza Ann Chipman, Eliza of Pleasant Valley. Mr. Davison writes that Alice “passed the Christmas month without any reference to an observation or special celebration.” He then follows with an excellent overview of early Christmas celebrations here and touches on its German origin and the origin of Christmas cards and Christmas trees.

Davison Quotes Dr. John Burgess Calkin, who wrote extensively on Christmas customs in Kings County in the 19th century. Davison’s source most likely was Eaton’s Kings County history. Eaton quotes Calkin extensively, especially regarding Yuletide customs, and here we find that turkeys, geese “or perchance a young pig” were the main fare on Christmas Day.

In the history of Greenwich (Greenwich Times, published 1968) we find that Christmas was a special time for the early settlers of this area. However, the observations on early Christmas customs in this area appear to have been taken from Eaton’s Kings County (whom as we know was quoting Calkin) so nothing new can be found there.

If you wonder what Christmas was like in your grandfather’s day, I refer you to Glen Hancock’s wonderful book, My Real Name is Charley. Most of us seniors will remember the Christmases that Glen writes about. The long-awaited adventure with Dad to find and cut the Christmas tree, the school plays, home-made fruit cake, the goose (turkeys weren’t “in” yet) for Christmas dinner, which seemed to take forever to rend and roast.

And one more glimpse of Christmas in earlier days, this from Leslie Eugene Dennison. Writing about Yuletide celebrations in the 1870s, Dennison recalled a memorable Christmas when he received his first pair of steel skates. Until then, he said, all his skates had been wooden with steel runners and straps.

The Canard River dyke system has been in existence in one form or another for more than 300 years, Advertiser columnist Brent Fox said in a November talk at the Kings Historical Society. But while the Canard dykes have a “secure future as a living, working artefact of our heritage and agricultural industry,” Fox said we often seem unaware of their existence and their impact on this area.

Fox noted that we take many of our local roads for granted, not realising they resulted from the dykeing work of the Acadians. “We take Highway 359 to Hall’s Harbour for granted; and Highway 341 to Upper Dyke, the Middle Dyke road between Chipman’s Corner and Upper Canard, Highway 358 between Port Williams… and Canning, and the road between Starr’s Point and Lower Canard,” he said.

All of these highways either pass over or near the aboiteaux and cross dykes “the Acadian built more than a quarter of a millennium ago.”

Fox suggested there should be interpretation sites on the roads over the Canard dykelands. Such sites would define our Acadian heritage and the Acadian influence on our landscape and environment.

In his address, Fox traced the history of the Canard River system from the time of the Acadians. “The Acadians constructed the first dykes on the system across Sheffield Creek (a tributary flowing in from the north) and across the Canard River itself,” he said. “The system, culminating with the Wellington Dyke at the mouth of the river, is about five or six miles long, extending from north of Starr’s Point to north-east of Camp Aldershot.”

At one time the Canard dykes were a “large tidal marsh or lake, depending on the height of the tide.” Over the years the tides washed valuable soils into the marsh, soils, Fox said, “that would eventually be useful for agriculture once they could be reclaimed.”

The first efforts by the Acadians, who arrived here in the 1680s, included cross dykes “upon which the whole system would be based,” Fox said. “Called aboiteaux, these go across the flow to cut off the tide waters while letting water out at low tide,. They were, in effect, dams, of which the Wellington Dyke is the remaining working vestige.”

In a second phase the Acadians began a more ambitious project on the Canard River in the area we know as Middle dyke road.

“The new Middle Dyke doubled the previous tillable acreage,” Fox said. From the Middle Dyke the Acadians built running dykes that spread east. “On the north bank they bowed quite close to the watercourse. On the south bank they erected a similar… structure, the Long Dyke.

“Behind the Long Dyke the Acadians had a windmill. So prior to the construction of the fourth Canard aboiteau, or Grand Dyke, boats could come up to the windmill to unload grain and onload flour.”

With the Middle Dyke work completed the Acadians began the biggest project of their era, Fox said. This was the Grand Dyke, which when fisnished would protect about two-thirds of the river valley, almost 2,000 acres, from the salt tides.

“All this was done with hand tools,” Fox said, “and one can only imagine the enormous organisation that was needed….”

The remaining structures are a monument to their efforts, Fox concluded.

The Acadians are said to have operated two mills in Kings County but apparently little is known about them. Various sources that refer to the mills are vague as to their location and source of power, noting only that they may have been tidal water or wind driven.

Much more is known about the mills operated by the settlers that followed the Acadians. From what I’ve read, there must have been dozens of mills in this area alone; it appears that every major community had one, water driven at first, then steam and gas engine powered until the arrival of electricity.

According to Eaton’s history, a village immediately north of Kentville, Steam Mill, had the first steam-driven mill in the county This mill was operating before 1849. In Kentville and along the upper reaches of the Cornwallis River and its tributaries there were a succession of water-powered mills; one of the first on the Cornwallis was built by the Marchant family around 1840.

Recently I talked with Fen Wood whose family took over the Marchant mill over 100 years ago. Fen still lives at the mill site on Lovett Road in Coldbrook. The mill was located on a bend in the river immediately behind his residence. From about 1850 to 1898 the mill was operated by Nathan west; in 1898 the mill was purchased by Fen’s father, John.

“It was a water mill at first when Dad got it,” Fen recalls. “We had two water wheels and later a 25 horse gas engine was added. We didn’t have enough of a head, only six to eight feet, to operate only solely on water power, so we ran the water wheel and gas engine together.”

Fen recalls working at the mill after school as early as age 12 or 13 in the early 1920s. “We were a saw and planing mill at first, ” Fen recalls. We didn’t run too big a business but we made moulding, sheathing, siding and all that kind of stuff.”

Later the Woods began threshing grain at the mill. “We just ran the threshing mill at harvest time in the fall when the grain was on. In those days everything came in on horse and wagon, horse and wagon team, in late summer.”

Fen was in his teens when his father took steps to ensure the mill would no longer be at the mercy of Cornwallis River water levels. “When power came through in the 30s we hooked up to it and installed an electric motor.”

After graduating from university most of Fen’s working life was spent at the mill. He was in university when his father was hurt in an accident at the mill. This happened in the late 30s and Fen and his brother Don took over the operation. “Dad could still work but he wasn’t at full capacity after the accident,” Fen said, “so it was up to Don and me to keep the mill going.”

Woods Mill was one of the last lumber and threshing mills in operation on the Cornwallis River, and it probably ranks as one of the mills longest in operation in this area – over 130 years. Fen Wood shut the mill down 25 years ago. Most of the original mill property is still in his family but few traces of the old mill remain.

After the mill closed Fen worked in the woods “for a while” before retiring. At 89 he’s still active in the Kentville Gyro Club where he’s a 50-year member.